Calm Before The Storm
by Thoughts Through Words
Summary: "When she slammed her mouth onto his again, Rick came to the conclusion that he officially loved the rain." - Set somewhere in Season 4. ONESHOT
Kate appeared at his door, her clothes rain soaked and her hair hair dripping. The storm outside couldn't compare to the storm raging in her eyes.

He suddenly became jealous of the storm, as it was able to be intimate with Kate Beckett in a way he hadn't been given the great pleasure to be. He envied the rain drops as they glided across her pale skin, the way his fingers itched to imitate. He desperately wished to act as the wind, rippling through the clothing that was currently clinging to her skin. The thunder was able to send vibrations thrumming through her, in the same way he fantasized about doing one day. He dreamed of acting like the lighting, lighting up her insides and setting her every nerve ending aflame. He emulated the storm, as it was granted the privilege of howling in her ear. Rick was flooded by the desire to replace the harsh sounds of the storm, that were still rattling in her head, with his hushed whispers of affection. Even the dark clouds in the sky were able to observe her every move as he was so rarely allowed to do.

The entire building shook with the violence of the storm, but Kate Beckett was still the greatest force of nature he had ever encountered. Mother Nature didn't have anything up her sleeve that could rattle him more than she could. The sunniest days would never be as bright as Kate's mega-watt smile when ever she saw him. That same smile never failed to make his heart palpitate against his ribcage, because that smile was just for him. The most brutal tornado couldn't hold a candle to the tornado that was Beckett. Without even trying she swept up everything he thought he knew and left it in a broken mess at his feet. Her cherry sent would always be more dizzying than any high speed cyclone. Oh, how he'd love to experience a tsunami that could cause him to drown deeper than Kate already had. He was sinking in an ocean of infatuation and awe. He could feel the breath leaving his lungs every time she looked at him with her emerald eyes, but he just couldn't convince himself to come up for air. He wasn't sure he wanted too, or if it was even possible.

A flash of lighting lit up the dark and dreary loft, also succeeding in lighting up her face for a split second. Even in that short amount of time, mere seconds to be exact, he had been able to memorize every detail. He was mesmerized by the way her light eyes had blackened to a frightening shade. He always thought that "eyes darkening in lust" was simply a cliche used in romance novels. But watching it happen in front of him was intoxicating. _She_ was intoxicating. Rick could see the doubt and fear acting as her own personal clouds were fighting for dominance over the carnal desire that was overtaking her tonight. Their attraction to each other was a fire that had been slowly burning for years, both of them keeping a safe distance away, with the exception of a few times when one of them would attempt to tip toe over the line of friendship and wind up being scorched by the flames. They both knew that she was more than another notch on his bed post.

They've been willful participants in a dance, each of them perfect with each move, dip, and twirl, only an occasional misstep. However the duo was able to quickly recover from the bump in their rhythm. The music has been on a never-ending loop since she arrested him that fateful day at his book launch. They've memorized every beat, going along for the ride with every crescendo and decrescendo.

Neither of them had made any attempt at moving, the two rooted to floor. He didn't know how long they'd been studying each other, wether it'd been seconds or minutes or hours. He hadn't even given her a simple hello. But it didn't look like either of them even needed the pleasantry.

He's supposed to be mad at her. Hell, maybe he was. But he couldn't find it in him to care when she was standing there with her rain soaked clothes hugging her in all the right places and her sopping strands matted to her face in a way that made his fingers twitch, craving to run through the wet locks. He laughed at himself internally because he sounds like a hormonal teenage boy.

Years ago, he would have been perfectly okay with a one night stand. It wouldn't have bothered him waking up to find that all that was left her her was her lingering scent on his sheets. But now he wants so much more. He wants to wake up before her and watch the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest wile admiring the serenity dancing along her features. He wants to walk out his bedroom to see her sleepily sipping coffee only dressed in one of his button downs. He wants to spend nights at his loft with her head burrowed in the crook of his neck as they lay in a mass of tangled limbs. He wants to spend the rest of his life making her eyes light up and her head throw back with laughter.

He'd been married twice and he'd never felt like this. What was it Kate said that day? He asked her how you know if you're in love. Her response came flooding back to him. _All the songs make sense,_ she had said. He'd have been lying if he said that they didn't.

For weeks, he had been convincing himself that she didn't feel anything more than platonic about him. But the love, and need, and want, currently radiating off her spoke different volumes. He wants to step aside. He wants to let her in. But as soon she steps over the threshold, the fire they've so carefully guarded could send everything up in flames, everything they've worked for turning into nothing more than ashes at their feet, both of them forever mourning what could

have been.

He does finally let her slide past him and enter the loft. With a soft click, he lets the door shut behind him. They turn to each other, studying one another as the lightning flashes around them. The storm outside would never be as uncontrollable as she was. Kate Beckett was an unpredictable force, She was like a drug and _god_ was he addicted.

"I'm done playing," she growled at him. Her tone of voice sent shivers down his spine.

She grabbed the lapels of his button down and slammed her mouth onto his without warning. There was no gentle or slow or soft. Her kiss was hard and possessive as she gripped him angrily. He was so drunk on the taste of her, that was mixed with the taste of rain water, that he couldn't register the feeling of her soaked clothing against him. The chill of the sopping fabric would have been a welcome change to to the suffocating, hot, desire building between them, had he been able to recognize anything past the fact that Kate Beckett's mouth was taking ahold of his own and he had no control over it. He couldn't bring himself to care.

Ripping away her mouth from his she kept her body sinfully pressed against his own. "You're mine," she hissed. "Not some busty, blonde flight attendant who wants to join the Mile High club."

It took him a minute to recover from the loss of her lips on his but her words struck something in him. Shame washed over him in waves as he realized he hurt her by flaunting Jacinda in front of her. He opened his mouth to apologize but she placed a finger on his mouth silencing him.

"Don't," she snarled. "Don't apologize. I lied, you acted spitefully, we both made mistakes. Now kiss me until we both forget."

He couldn't even hear the storm anymore over the roar of his blood rushing in his hears. When she slammed her mouth onto his again, Rick came to the conclusion that he officially _loved_ the rain.


End file.
